Misfits
by Kouklara
Summary: It all looked so much easier in the cartoons. [OC fic]
1. Prologue

I started this story a long time ago, and the earlier chapters were horrible. I'm uploading them here anyway because I couldn't be bothered rewriting them. Enjoy the crappiness.

**Prologue**

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and grinned. "Lookin' good, Will," I said to myself, admiring my appearance. The boy in the mirror smirked back at me. He had dark green eyes and reddish-coloured hair that refused to lie flat. I didn't care. It only enhanced my already fantastic appearance anyway, in my opinion. This boy grinning out of the mirror also seemed to have great taste in clothes. He was dressed in a black vest with gold buttons over a dark green t-shirt, and black jeans with gold flames around the ankles. A gold chain hung from his neck, ready to clip on a PokéBall. "Yep. You are one good looking guy."

"WILL!"

I came back to earth abruptly, back from the glamorous room in which I wished I had been standing. I was in fact in my own tiny bedroom. The dull white ceiling was cracked and filthy. There was even mildew from leaks in the roof on the walls and ceiling. The stupid builders hadn't even bothered to put in carpet or polish the rotting floorboards. The only good thing about my room was the full-length mirror, which I spent most of my time in front of. I put on my best expression of offended dignity, checked in the mirror to see that it looked right and began to walk down the stairs.

"WIIIILL!"

"Coming, mum," I called wearily. As I stepped out my door, one of my little sisters crashed into me and ran underneath my legs, screaming at something. My other little sister came out of somewhere crying loudly, her finger oozing blood - probably a paper cut or something stupid like that. My dad hollered at her to shut up. What I did to land myself in a family like this, I don't know. But I have never been able to shake the feeling I don't belong here. They're just too...dysfunctional. I should live in a big glamorous city like Saffron with a movie-star mum and a Pokémon master dad.

As soon as my mother's lined face came into view she began yelling at me. "You arrogant little boy, you've spent THREE HOURS up there admiring your own stupid reflection!"

I wasn't sure which part of her sentence offended me most; 'arrogant', 'little boy', or 'your own stupid reflection'. While I was trying to come up with a dignified remark to disprove all three, she shouted, "THREE HOURS! Will, how are you going to get that Charmander you wanted so much if you're two hours late?!" She seemed to be running out of steam, so I took the opportunity to retort.

"For one, mother, I am not arrogant. Secondly, I am not a little boy. I'm sixteen years old now, which is evidently not something you were aware of, me being unimportant to you. And finally..." Hang on. Two hours late?! "TWO HOURS LATE?! You stupid woman, how come you didn't tell me?!?!"

"I did," she said tiredly. "I've spent the last two hours calling you. You're just too absorbed in yourself to notice anything else going on in the world."

As I stormed out the door, I thought furiously, _Of course I am. It's my own life. Who else but me matters?_


	2. Bulbasaur and Bridget

Still horribly old and crappy at this stage.

**Chapter 1: Bulbasaur and Bridget**

"B-BULBASAUR?!"

"I'm afraid so, Will."

How was I supposed to be a fire elemental with a _Bulbasaur_?! I seethed at Professor Gary Oak. His red-brown hair was beginning to turn grey and his face was liberally lined.

"How am I supposed to be a fire elemental with a _Bulbasaur_?!" I demanded furiously. "It's...it's...weak!" I glared at the PokéBall he was holding out to me.

"If you had been here two hours earlier, you could have gotten the Charmander," Professor Oak said coolly. "From what I've heard from your mother, you spent that time admiring yourself in the mirror." I opened my mouth hotly to retort, but he ploughed on, "If you won't accept this, you'll have to wait another year, Will. It's Bulbasaur or nothing."

I glared at him and snatched the PokéBall from his hand, marched over to the desk and grabbed a PokéDex, and stomped out of the lab in thoroughly bad spirits. "Stupid little grass Pokémon, useless, weak, who wants it...?"

"Excuse me?"

I looked up and found to my surprise I had stomped myself straight out into Route 1. A girl no older than twelve stood before me smiling innocently. She had wide, owl-like blue eyes and messy black hair that hung in a matted heap around her waist. She had several PokéBalls hanging from her waist and was clutching a young Vulpix that looked as if it had only recently grown into adulthood. "I'm Bridget," she announced, as if it was the sort of thing I'd be interested in knowing. "Do you want to battle?"

"Er - I -" What, with this puny little Pokémon?

"It's against the law to refuse." She smiled widely. "You can be the challenger. Go, Crystal!" She tossed a PokéBall at me. It flew backwards as a Graveller materialised out of it. I sighed and half-heartedly dropped my PokéBall on the ground. A tiny Pokémon appeared in a blaze of red light. It was a blue-green colour with furled, pointed ears and a huge plant bulb on its back. It turned to me.

"Bulba?" It twitched its ears and blinked its huge crimson eyes. Pathetic. Even if it was a little bit cute. Truly pathetic.

"Well? Do your thing," I prompted. It frowned slightly and gave a low, cute sounding growl.

What kind of attack was _that_?

Bridget smirked. "Crystal, use body slam!"

"Oh - um - dodge it, I suppose -" But I gave my command too late and the sad little Pok?on was flattened by Graveller. I could think of nothing that looked less like a crystal.

"Okay, Crystal, rollout!"

The Graveller curled into a ball and rolled at Bulbasaur. "Dodge!" I called more confidently. But speed was not proving to be one of the little Pokémon's best stats. It was too late and gave a squeal of pain as Graveller collided heavily with it.

"Again!"

I didn't bother telling Bulbasaur to dodge, but watched gloomily as the little girl proved what an abysmally bad trainer I was. Finally Bulbasaur had enough and fainted.

"Hm. For somebody who looks about fourteen -"

"Sixteen," I snarled, recalling Bulbasaur.

"For somebdy who's sixteen years old, you're pretty weak. How long have you been training?"

"About two minutes," I snapped, clipping the PokéBall onto the chain around my neck. "You?"

"Seven months," she said breezily. "Want me to show you to the Pok?on Centre?"

"No."

"Too bad, I will anyway," she replied with a grin. The Vulpix in her arms gave an amused squeak. She carefully transferred it to her shoulder, grabbed my hand and ploughed through the long, itchy grass. "This is Embrea," she said, glancing at the Vulpix on her shoulder. "She doesn't normally battle for me, she doesn't like it. Actually," she added rather less cheerfully, "she doesn't really like me either. The only reason she travels with me is she gets free food."

"Vul!" interrupted the Vulpix.

Bridget sighed. "Yes, and protection from the Rockets as well."

"How do you know?" I asked in spite of myself.

"She told me," replied Bridget as we wove through the trees.

"...what?"

"I can speak to Pokémon, you know. How else would I know their names?"

Oh, great. I'm being led around by a nutty little girl four years younger than me who thinks her Pokémon had names before she nicknamed them. Not only that, she thinks she can speak to Pokémon!

"Of course you can. What are the Rockets?"

"Who, not what," said Bridget darkly, jumping over a protruding log, which I promptly stumbled on. "They're a huge organisation of Pokémon theives. We've had quite a bit of trouble with them before. Trust me, the Rockets have no shame. They will do anything for a rare Pokémon."

"Well, unluckily for me, Bulbasaur isn't rare."

"Unluckily?" said Bridget inquiringly. "Did I hear you wrong?"

"No. You heard right. I hate the stupid Pokémon."

Bridget frowned slightly, then her attention was diverted. "Here we are!" she said brightly. "Viridian City! Come with me." And, neglecting to release my hand, she set off at a sprint.

When we arrived at the Centre, I was trying not to pant. I felt like my tongue should be lolling out of my mouth like a Growlithe's. Bridget looked merely as if she'd gone on a short, leisurely walk. Mercifully, she released my hand and smiled in her irritatingly innocent way. "And I give you, the Pokémon Centre. Do you want me to wait out here for you?"

"Of course not," I said irritably. "Why would I need a little kid to help me?"

She shrugged. "Your loss," she stated simply and began to walk away. Finally free of her, I entered the Pokémon Centre and gave my PokéBall to the nurse. She smiled and told me I'd have it back in a few minutes. I shrugged and leant on the counter, looking around. Trainers were all around, usually in groups of two or three, talking, laughing and playing with their Pokémon.

And just as I was starting to get bored, the most beautiful girl in the world walked in. 


	3. Worst Day of My Life

Humhumhum. Crappiness. :3

**Chapter 2: Worst Day Of My Life**

She had shoulder-length, incredibly glossy hair the colour of autumn leaves and eyes like almond-shaped, long-lashed sapphires. She was dressed in a plain white tank top and jeans, but she should have been wearing a royal gown, or at least some kind of prom dress. It was as though the whole room had suddenly turned dark and a heavenly beam of light was shining down upon her.

I must have been staring, because she gave me a funny look. Then she started walking towards me. I frantically tried to pull together an amazingly cool greeting that didn't sound like a corny pick-up line, when I realised she was walking past me towards Nurse Joy. I stifled a sigh of relief as she said to Joy, "I'm here to pick up my Cubone. Is the check-up over?"

"Yes, it is. Your Cubone is very well looked after," replied Joy. "Cubone!"

A small brown Pokémon with an oversized skull over its head hurried out, grunting excitedly. "Cuu! Bone!"

"Hel-_lo_, Cubone," she cooed, bending down to pick it up. She gave me another odd look and muttered at me, "Do I have something on my face?" as she straightened up.

I jumped, startled, and tried to stop myself blushing. _Dignified, Will. Dignified._

"Er...um...I...uh...no," I said rather lamely, and felt my face grow hot before I could stop myself.

She gave me what could have been a smile if she hadn't looked so taken aback. "I'm Linda."

_Linda._ The name bounced around my mind, which had gone oddly blank.

"Er...I'm Will," I managed to stammer.

What was wrong with me? That morning seemed an age ago, when I had spent three hours admiring myself in the mirror, thinking how cool, collected and smart, not to mention good-looking, I was. I felt like an ugly mutant next to Linda.

"Your Bulbasaur is ready," said Joy suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

I jumped again, feeling like a twitchy squirrel or something. "Oh - er - thanks." I took the PokéBall from her. I felt Linda's eyes on me.

"What do you do?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I replied, surprised.

"Well, I'm in training to be a Pokémon Professor. What are you?"

"A trainer," I said promptly, and to my astonishment, Linda recoiled suddenly, as if I'd said 'a Rocket'.

"...oh," she said, looking rather disappointed. "You see - er - I think battling is...inhumane."

"How?" I said before I could stop myself, and wished I hadn't. She looked disgusted.

"Trainers force Pokémon to battle," she said fiercely, switching moods. "They sit back, yell out orders, and watch their friends suffer."

"Well...it's not always like that, is it? Some Pokémon enjoy battling." I knew I hadn't a hope in a debate against Linda, not when I was already distracted by her looks, but my pride wouldn't let me give in and say wearily, 'yes, you're right'.

"How do you know, Will?" She stared at me as if seeing me in a new light - or darkness, I thought gloomily. "How do you know...? It's funny. I thought you seemed okay at first. Now I find out you're one of those - those - barbarians!"

She stormed out of the Centre, clutching her Cubone. _Oh great,_ I thought. _She_ thought _I was okay at first..._ I sighed, my shoulders sagging. Why didn't I say I was going to be a field medic or a breeder or something?

I scuffed my feet as I left the Centre. I got the worst possible starter Pokémon, was annihilated by a little kid, and now an insanely pretty girl thinks I'm barbaric. Could this day get any worse?

Crap. Apparently it could.

Look who's back. None other than Little Miss Crazy herself.

"Why the long face?" chirruped Bridget, skipping along beside me.

"Never you mind," I snapped back. The snappy retort bounced off her and she just smiled in her naive way that suggested she wasn't actually naive at all.

"So where are you going now?" she asked, like it was any of her business.

"Viridian Forest. And then Pewter City," I replied flatly. Nosy little -

"Can I come?"

It shocked me more than I thought I would. "What the - NO!" I yelled, startling myself. "It's all I need, isn't it, to be glued to an annoying little kid? After the worst day of my life, I've got another crappy day with Bridget the Insane to look forward to! No you may not! Now stop following me, you weird stalker!"

Oh, joy of all joys. Bridget's eyes filled with tears and she began to sob.

Damn, she's a good actor. 


End file.
